


MORNING IT BREAKS ME

by Queenoftheuniverse



Category: johnlock - Fandom
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Male on male sex, Tears, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-18
Updated: 2013-02-18
Packaged: 2017-11-29 17:31:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/689593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenoftheuniverse/pseuds/Queenoftheuniverse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John wakes up from a nightmare to find Sherlock there, willing to help him in any way he can.</p>
            </blockquote>





	MORNING IT BREAKS ME

**Author's Note:**

> I have been writing "Mummy Porn"* for years and have finally found somewhere to post!!! Yay!!!
> 
> *my term for a sensible mother and family lady such as myself donning a porn cape and going up up and away!!!

MORNING IT BREAKS ME

John swam up from a terrible nightmare, fighting, swearing, screaming and swinging his arms, his fists tight. Useless weapons against what he flailed at!

"John!" came a deep voice in his ear. He was physically struggling with someone, someone masculine. 

John stopped, awake now, heart pounding in his throat. Awake. In his room. On his bed, propped against a warm body.

"Sherlock...I'm sorry..." he whispered,voice raspy. Hoarse from screaming.

"You were having a nightmare John. It sounded very bad." Sherlock said, his voice actually rumbling on Johns spine. John became more aware of his surroundings. He was in his dark blue and maroon silk pyjama pants, his sheets kicked way down the bed. His forehead was wet with sweat.

But on his belly, splayed like a starfish, was Sherlocks hand. Delicious...no, no, don't give anything away! Walls slammed up.....He gave a shudder and adored the feeling of his stomach muscles and light hairs moving under Sherlocks hand. Walls quivered....

"Are you back with me?" Sherlock asked, voice gorgeous in Johns ear. John could feel Sherlocks hair against his cheek and he shuddered again, for a totally different reason. Johns spine gave him permission to relax and he fell into Sherlock, trembling, only partly in residual fear. Sherlock jerked his arm tighter, and John moaned quietly, in his throat. 

"Yes, I am back. That was...." John shook his head. "ghastly..." he breathed.

"I shook you, but you just would not come out of it. I could see you were not here with me, you were....somewhere else."

"Afghanistan." John whispered, closing his eyes and drawing in a deep breath that ended with a shudder. "Christ...."

"You believed I was the enemy." Sherlock said.

John jumped forward, trying to twist around, but innocently holding Sherlocks arm to his stomach still.

"Did I hurt you?"

"A bit."

"Christ, I am so sorry..."

"Next time I will approach you with less insistence. I believe my gruff approach made you worse."

"Gruff?"

"I yelled at you. Shook you....it did not end well."

"Christ Sherlock, I am a trained soldier!"

"I am not without defences myself John." Sherlock said, turning John back to his original position. "But you are....stronger, like that..."

John nodded.

"I will get you a cloth." Sherlock said, and moved away. John grasped Sherlocks wrist to prevent him moving too far and got his first glimpse at Sherlocks face.

"Jesus Sherlock, did I do that?"

There was a huge deep scratch at the corner of Sherlocks eye, and a redness to his face that spoke of slaps or punches.

"You were not here, you were back...there..."

"Shit Sherlock I am so...."

Sherlock broke free, padding to the ensuite.

"Think nothing of it" he said, running water on a washcloth. 

John swung his legs to the floor but remained seated, on the side of the bed. Sherlocks long feet, covered slightly by the length of his flannel pyjama pants, approached him. Cautiously.

"Sherlock, you don't need to worry.." John looked up at his friend. "oh..." he suddenly could not breathe. Sherlock looked...beautiful. His tight white v-neck t-shirt, mussed curls, jungle cat eyes. He could feel his own face softening, his eyes burning. For once, he let his raw inner feelings show. He just could not help it. His natural inhibitions stripped from him and he allowed himself to look at his flatmate with his true feelings. 

Sherlocks eyes went bright. He delicately dropped to his knees in front of John. Johns eyes never left the taller mans face, even when he began to lightly pad at Johns face with the wonderfully cool cloth.

John had no idea why he allowed himself to lay himself bare to Sherlock at this moment but he figured there was only so much tight reign you can have, especially after a night terror such as he had just endured. And Sherlock was quite simply the most breathtaking man he had ever met. 

"Sherlock..." he choked, his voice thick, and his hand looped into the back of Sherlocks head, twining in his curls there, all of their own accord. Sherlock did not even pause, just fell forward, claiming Johns lips with his own superb ones.

The kiss was breathtaking. Johns heart thudded again, and he took a deep breath in through his nose, and then, as if contrived to make John die, Sherlock slid his beautiful tongue into Johns mouth in a display of obvious desperation. Johns moan was low, wrenched from deep within himself. He squashed Sherlock to him, and Sherlock did not resist. In fact, he pressed John forward, gently insisting with his hot mouth that John lay back on the bed, and John complied, moaning again as Sherlocks hips wriggled between his legs. 

Sherlocks jaw began to work with earnest, devouring John with those beautiful distracting lips, thrusting his sinful tongue inside further, and now...God help him, Sherlock was gently moving his hips in a sexual parody of humping, naughtily fucking him without so much as touching him skin to skin.

Johns moans became wretched and desperate. He was now so unsure of what he wanted but whatever it was he wanted it all. Now. But wait. Oh not all, make this last, make this last!

Sherlock broke the lip lock and then forcefully, using one of those long beautiful hands of his to turn Johns head to the side. When he pressed his mouth, his tongue and Jesus help him, his TEETH, to Johns throat John actually....whimpered. His hips rolled upwards to meet Sherlocks and it was obvious they were both hard. Johns head spin, lights danced.

"Bite me..hurt me Sherlock.."

Was that him?

Sherlock responded by growling, shoving his hips down hard on Johns pelvis, and biting so hard John gasped. Then Sherlock took both of Johns wrists and pinned them to the bed above his head.

"Oohhhh, yes..." John hissed, rolling his eyes closed, and all but shoving his neck deeper into Sherlocks hot, vicious mouth. The pain was desperately excruciating, and Sherlock was unrelenting. Licking, sucking, nipping, and taking liberties with the delicate and now rapidly reddening and swelling throat skin. He spent time latched onto Johns larynx, just growling, putting slight pressure on his voice box.

"Goddddd" John moaned. Sherlock then came back up to kiss his bruised lips roughly. John tried to keep up but his vision was swimming. He slid his tongue into Sherlocks hot mouth and Sherlock moaned, the most beautiful sound in the world. John could not help but suddenly pull away. It was too much!

Sherlock said nothing but, still holding Johns wrists still under his strong hands, he slid his lips down Johns tortured neck, then gently trailed his mouth over his collarbone, breast bone, his breath hot on Johns shivering skin.

When John felt the flat of Sherlocks hot tongue drag its way slowly over his hard, pert nipple his emotions burst through and he began to sob quietly. It was all he ever wanted, and the crazy, maddening feelings Sherlock had always brought bubbling up in him were given free reign. Sherlock let go of Johns wrists and slid down his body, still lapping at his nipple with maddening slowness. He rested himself on his elbows, long fingers cupping Johns ribs, and nestled between Johns trembling legs. 

John began to beg through his tears, tossing his head left and right.

"Sherlock please, please...." he had no idea what he wanted but that constant lapping was driving him insane! "Oh God Sherlock please fuck...please!" He thrust his hands into Sherlocks delicious curls, trying desperately to make Sherlock stop teasing him! 

"John, no." Sherlock stopped lapping long enough to say that, then kept his frustrating constant lapping.

Poor John sobbed, eyes awash with strangely cathartic tears. He lifted his legs to thrust his straining pelvis into Sherlocks stomach, and Sherlock responded by biting Johns swollen nipple. John yelped in pain but, before he could react any more, Sherlock began to use the flat of his tongue to lap the other hard nipple.

"Ohhhhhhh....." a long drawn out moan fell from Johns throat, and he squirmed, his fingers falling loose in Sherlocks hair.

The lapping was just as long, drawn out and maddeningly even. John began to feel on fire, and his sobbing became louder.

Sherlock began to trail little kisses and tiny licks down Johns ribs, and across his stomach. The sounds John made now were high pitched whimpers weirdly punctuated with tears and sobs.

"John.." Sherlock growled now, between lip and tongue work "You must stop crying...my dear...I may think....you are not enjoying me..." and at the end of the sentence he grabbed the waistband of Johns pyjamas and whipped them down.

John cried out, a wordless protest.

Sherlock kissed the very very head of Johns cock, gently. John shuddered, and a fresh lot of tears and sobbing burst from him.

"John..."

His name on those lips made him whimper again. Such sounds Sherlock wrenched from him. 

"John, please, stop crying..." He kissed Johns cock again. "Tell me...what do you want me to do?"

John could not answer. Sherlock was kissing his cock, licking it gently, nipping at it. Poor John could not form a coherent word, it was desperately unfair of Sherlock to expect one.

"Are you not enjoying me John?" Sherlock asked, his voice still low, his mouth still kissing, licking, teasing...

John clamped his lips, hot tears still pouring from his screwed shut eyes.

"Shall I stop John?"

"No!" John screamed, and gasped in shock as Sherlock engulfed him whole, his timing perfect. Oh, to have his cock inside Sherlocks velvety instant vacuum of a mouth. He lost any pretence of being human, thrust his hands to his side, grabbed the sheet for purchase and began to fuck Sherlocks mouth. He lost control, became the core of himself, the only thing he could do was jam his cock in and out of Sherlocks beautiful throat.

Animal sounds wrenched from him, begging, gasping sobs of pain and pleasure. He could feel the orgasm coming but he could not form the words. He called to God, to Jesus, to whomever was listening and then...then...

A deep screaming orgasm from his very toes. His balls shivered and contracted, his cock swelled and he spurted into Sherlocks willing mouth, again and again and again.

"Oh...oh..oh..I love you, I love you I Love yoouuuuuu!!!" he screamed, eyes flashing open, staring at the ceiling but only seeing fire, the fire of lust and love and sex requited. 

When the fire subsided all that was left was his piteous sobbing. He grabbed a pillow and shoved it onto his face, trying to quell the sobs that just would not stop.

He felt Sherlocks mouth release him, and his pants pulled up. There was the unmistakable sound of a hand wiping the back of a mouth. The bed wobbled, a draw opened. There was fumbling, and then a pump sound.

Then Sherlock lay beside him.

"Turn over John."

John shook his head under the pillow. With a frightening suddenness the pillow was flung across the room. Sherlock used one arm to force John to his stomach. John yelped and then Sherlock was on top of him, above him, insistently wrestling with Johns pants again.

"No Sherlock..." John choked out, frightened.

"Hush John, it's my turn..."

John gasped as Sherlocks long fingers worked between his arse and found the centre of him. The cold moist feeling there made John realise that Sherlock had found lube as was forcing some into him now. That meant Sherlock...no! Oh no!

"Sherlock..what are you doing?"

There was a brief fumbling and then Sherlock forced Johns legs apart. 

"Let me in John" Sherlock whispered. "I need you John, I need you..."

If Sherlock had said anything else John would have fought him off. But this....his direct need for him, his body, his skin, his lips, his very soul, John was unable to think. He wiggled the rest of his legs out of his pants and there he was, laid bare for Sherlock.

"John" Sherlock whispered, so quietly it was like a prayer, and then John felt hard hotness at the very centre of him. He shuddered, clenched, and then relaxed.

Sherlock gently nudged John open. He took his time. John was so deliciously tight but he soon loosed up, allowing more of Sherlock in. Little by little Sherlocks hot slickness invaded him, deepened him, the feeling of being pinned, wanted, loved, made John start to cry again.

"Yes...lovely tears John..." Sherlock said, and began to move in and out slowly, just using a tiny bit of his length. John opened himself up more, and the pain left. All that was left was pleasure and once again that aching need for Sherlock to claim him.

"Sherlock, I beg you...." John sobbed "please, please....please Sherlock..."

Sherlock increased his depth and pace, his voice hot in Johns ear.

"Is this what you want John?"

"Yesssssss..." John hissed, and began to move his arse up to meet Sherlocks forward thrusts.

"Oh John, you are such a-"

Whatever he was about to say was lost in Sherlocks sudden desperate thrusting. He raised himself up and SHOVED himself into Johns arse, grunting like an animal. John whimpered in pleasure, those damn tears starting up again, he was so ready for Sherlocks body to posses him, own him! 

Sherlock began to growl, a constant noise, his fringe now brushing Johns back as his head lowered. He hissed like a serpent and then words fell from his delectable lips.

"John John beautiful John I need you I need you oh...my John...I....love...y-" the last word came out as a howl. He tensed and then he screamed in joy, his cock pulsing and pulsing in Johns hot arse, fingers digging into Johns shoulders. 

Sherlocks whole body was wracked with gorgeous spasms as he emptied himself deep inside his lovely John.

Tiny bits of drool dripped onto Johns back as the last of Sherlocks shudders subsided.

"John, your tears, your tears, stop crying stop crying I love you...."

Johns world spun, and suddenly it was dawn.

He was clutching a pillow.

Cold.

It was cold.

And then John knew, he knew. Sherlock had not made love to him, had not kissed him and had his way with him.

Sherlock had killed himself

And John was alone, all the things he had wanted to say left unsaid.

John screamed into his pillow as the sudden aching loneliness hit him again like a train.

Morning had come.

And he was alone.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh man...I need a cold shower!
> 
> Comments not only appreciated, but greedily devoured.


End file.
